29 weeks (the storm chaser and the incessant questions)

Lately, I find myself answering the same questions.  So I thought I should design a t-shirt that says the following:

Yes, I'm pregnant.
7 months.
Yes, it's very exciting.
It's my second child.
He's almost 3.
We're having another boy.
No I'm not disapointed that we're having another boy.
Yes, it's a great age difference.
Yes, we planned it that way.
No, we are not going to "try for a girl" next time.
Yes, we have a name.
No, we're keeping it to ourselves.
September 8th
Yes, It's going to be a long, hot summer.

This week has been an interesting one.  Life, again, happening.  The husb has a great respect (read: fear) of thunderstorms.  As soon as he hears rumbling or a flash in the sky, he throws me over his shoulder, scoops up Milo and we head down to our bomb shelter where we have a 2 year stash of all things survival.  Including Tums.  Mama got some real nice heartburn/indigestion.

I joke.  But not about the heartburn/indigestion.

So last Friday we're at our neighborhood Farmer's market where I usually admire the asparagus and muse over the squash and then just head over to the ice cream shoppe.  And then by Sunday I usually regret not buying the 6 ears of corn for $3 as we're grilling out steaks or ribs or whathaveyou.

Sidenote: After 7 years of being with my husband I have *finally* found a way he likes zuchini: GRILLED. See honey?  I knew if I was persistent enough you'd like it!  Hehe...

Anyhoos, big beautiful rolling clouds come into our view, seemingly mere feet from our heads.  The wind picks up and I'm laughing.  The husb is not.  He tries to play cool, tries to humor me, "Yeah, Milo look at those dark, black clouds!  Why don't we head over to the beach!"

I, of course, think that's a grand idea.  Thunderstorm on the beach?  Shit yeah!

But then crazy, close lightening shoots, like, crazy-close by, and even *I* the storm chaser, get a little anxious.

The scene had a very "Wizard of Oz" feel has various debris starts flailing around, parents and their children start hustling back to their cars.  The rain decides to join the party and it quickly becomes an all out hurricane-like situation.

Driving home, we could barely see 2 feet in front of us.  With my 2year old son and my husband and my big 'ol belly, I'm respecting the shit out of this storm.  Trust that.

And then we get home and find half of a tree on our (other) car:




What the hell...?  Yes, there is a car underneath that branch.



 This was also Father's Day weekend.  Guess what daddy got to do on Father's Day?  Break out the electric saw and a 6 pack of beer, daddy got work to do!

 Apparently, a bolt of lightening seared right down the center of the tree in our front yard.  It's like mother nature had heard my flippant, shoulder-shrug attitude regarding thunderstorms and wanted to teach me a little lesson on how dangerous and destructive a storm can be.

"You think thunderstorms are awesome?!  I'll show you how awesome I can be!  BAM!  Right in your front yard SUCKA!!"

You win, mother nature, YOU WIN!